


The Voice that Killed, and the Boy that Fought

by proximategalaxy



Category: Original Work
Genre: Horror, Psychological Horror, Short, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-31
Updated: 2014-12-31
Packaged: 2018-03-04 12:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3068717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/proximategalaxy/pseuds/proximategalaxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a repost from my deviantart account (same name as my account here, but i barely use it), Though this was originally a piece for a short story contest. I don't know what else to say, hope you enjoy</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Voice that Killed, and the Boy that Fought

**Author's Note:**

> This is a repost from my deviantart account (same name as my account here, but i barely use it), Though this was originally a piece for a short story contest. I don't know what else to say, hope you enjoy

“Y-you don't control me,” the boy said in disbelief. He paced to his right; the dull thunk of his worn shoes echoed through the abandoned warehouse. The boy’s form stopped, turned, and relaxed. Then he spoke in a voice that was his, yet resonated differently.  
“Oh but I do my dear boy.” The second voice chuckled as it regained control. So calm, so calculating, so sadistic, it seems hard to believe that it came from a teenage boy.  
“No, you don't. I was here first!” said the boy, and turned around quickly. He spoke with the first voice, but more confidently this time. James clenched his fists, as if to threaten the other voice. “I am the one in control, not you!” he shouted. The only sound in reply from the empty room was the echo of his own voice.  
Again, he stood straight. The other voice smirked and chuckled, “Oh Jimmy, that’s not true, and you know it. You have never been without me. Don't you remember the dogs, the cats, the blood, the death?” The voice cackled again.  
“Th-those were dreams” James said desperately, trying to convince himself more than anything.  
“ Oh James, I can assure you they were not. They were quite real”  
“You lie.”  
“Oh but I don't James. I am the only honest one here”  
“You're sick!”  
“Do you not remember all I have done for you? Or did you repress all of that too?”  
“...I don't know what you are talking about.”  
“Don't you remember? When you were four you started talking about your new friend Mori; how he 'played' with animals.” He laughed his sadistic laugh again. “They were horrified. They sent you to therapy.”  
“Th-that was because my grandfather died,” James murmured, trying to convince himself again.  
“Is that what they told you? No wonder you were able to suppress so much.” The voice laughed, quietly at first, slowly the voice evolved into a low, crazed giggle. “I’m not surprised you don't remember this place then.”  
“Wh-what do you mean?” James whispered as faint memories began to slowly trickled into his mind.  
“This was one of our favorite places. We were alone, It was quiet, and offered beautiful acoustics for the screams. Oh, the sweet screams.” A shiver of excitement ran down his spine.   
Mori walked to a small trap door that protruded from the concrete in a nearby corner of the warehouse. Opening the door, he paused to sniff the air. “Can you smell it, James? That would be our most recent plaything.”   
James collapsed. Slowly he pushed himself onto his hands and knees before vomiting.“Y-you’re sick.” He choked and shivered. The scent of rotting flesh made it hard to breathe.   
“Now now Jimmy, we took this man’s life. You should at least have the decency to approach his corpse.” The voice cackled in the back of his mind. In a slow, jerking motion, his legs began to straighten, standing him up against his will like a marionette. “Well if you won’t, then I must show you.”  
Without James’s consent, his legs led him through the opening of the trap door. By now the odor was so strong James thought that he would pass out if he did not leave this place quickly. His arm moved in a motion that was not at all human, and flicked a switch beside him. The tired lights buzzed as they flickered to life, revealing the grotesque. decomposing body of a policeman. It was this moment that Mori took complete control.   
He knelt down to examine the rotting body, and breathed in the air as if faced with a pleasant bouquet. “Oh, I just love that fragrance; better than a warm cup of coffee on a chill morning,” Mori said with a calm, almost cheerful, voice. James would have vomited if he were in control, but for now all he could do was scream silently and pound against the walls of psychological jail. “What is that little Jimmy? Do you not like the sight? the aroma? the idea that this man probably had a wife, children, and a family?” Smirking, Mori leaned in towards the body. As he looked closer, but the decay of its face made the age undeterminable. Deciding to wait and see how James would react, Mori willingly receded to the back of James’s mind.  
James returned to the conscious world with a gasp. He immediately regretted it, as the smell had sent him into a violent round of gags and dry-heaves. After a bit he was able to regain his composition and looked upon the poor man before him. Tears slid down his cheeks as he looked into the empty, lifeless eyes before him. He reached his hand forward and closed them slowly, and gently whispering “I’m sorry,” followed by a short prayer to every deity he could name. As he pulled his hand back, it brushed something cold and hard. He glanced down and saw a black GLOCK 9mm tucked into its   
holster. The sight of the deadly weapon, coupled with Mori’s crazed cackles in the back of his mind, memories flooded into his mind; as if a dam had broken.   
He remembered everything. Every bloody detail. Every blood-curdling scream. How many had there been? The number must have been too great to count. This body alone was unrecognizable as ever being human; the chest had been carved open and organs splayed out in disarray.   
Without thinking, he slipped the pistol out of its holster and began to examine it. The sight of the tainted weapon then prompted Mori to end his gloating and attempt to retake control. “What do you think you are doing, James?” His hand shakily lowering.  
“Ending this. Ending you!” James hissed. He forced the barrel back towards his head. “What’s wrong Mori? I thought this was your favorite part.” He bit down on the bitter barrel, and silenced them with a swift pull of the trigger.


End file.
